Drowned
by Late Night Child
Summary: House was certain that if forced to swallow anymore of his pride, he would vomit. SLASH. ChaseHouse


A/N: I wrote this for school honestly...thats kind of cool to me.

Disclamer: I dont own this show...sad face

WARNING: SLASHY SEX. Enjoy

Drowned

House could feel himself melting inside. The light meows and purrs that kept emitting from Chase was driving him insane.

House, at times, was convinced that he had tried to pull away, but Chase kept pulling him back, not with him hands or feet, but with him eyes, they were like a chain shackled around his throat, there was no escape.

Every time Chase would move, House would move with him. Chase seemed to melt under Houses fingers, bending into every touch and every caress that glided over his skin. But every time House would lean in to kiss the blond, Chase would move his face away. It infuriated House to have the most gorgeous creature God had bestowed upon the earth under him, around him, and he wasn't allowed to kiss him.

House knew the second this was over Chase would be gone, all of his perfection and beauty lost like sand caught in the wind. House wanted nothing more than to taste the man under him, to suck some of the precious nectar from the most beautiful rose of all, but he was denied it.

House hated the power Chase held over him. How the man under him could make him do anything in the world. Every time Chase would demand pleasure; House would give it to him.

Chase reeked of hospital soap, in every crevasse and corner of his body. Chase had, once again, attempted to rid himself of him sin. It happened every time after he finished a surgery, he would suddenly disappear for an hour, returning with the smell of soap hovering around him.

Chase himself owned a perfect body, but he did not wash it in a way a perfect body should be washed. The way he washed was terrible, he would hold the soap in his hands between clenched fingers, first he would glide the soap along his skin, then, directly after, he would run his fingernails over it. He would push his nails hard into his skin, as thought he was convinced that the soap wasn't working and he, in turn, was forced to resorting to tearing his own skin off. His nails would tear where the soap would touch. Soap, tear, soap, tear. This was his process, this is what he did.

It was so wrong for a body like his to be abused in such a way, so horribly wrong. He would pull at his hair so hard, that the brittle strands would break off. Chase would wash until he ran out of strength and couldn't move anymore, then, while forced to lean against the cold tile walls Chase would realize the abuse that he had brought upon himself, and he would stop.

Chase's body was red and raw in random large red strips that ran across his body, a few, if pushed at the right angle, would produce blood. Chase had been more violent with himself that day, for some reason.

Chase hadn't come, therefore, House had to pay the price of an arrogant man. He was forced to watch, through his own pleasure Chase face twist in disapproval. Shame dripped out of every pore on Houses body. It didn't matter that House was the one on top of him, over him, the look that Chase gave him made him nothing more than an insect clinging desperately to the peddle of a rose.

As House rolled off a disgruntled blond he was, once again, forced to swallow even more of his pride. House was certain that if forced to swallow anymore of his pride, he would vomit.

Chase said nothing as he dressed himself. He did so fast with a complete lack of grace. His fingers jerked and twisted over his body as he dressed, as though he was trying desperately not to wreck him fingernails over his skin in desperation to get all the scents off him. The scent of House, bed sheets, desperation, shame, pride, and the memories.

House laid on the bed, as though frozen, while he watched Chase dress himself. He could tell by the way he was moving his hands; he wanted to tear his skin off. House swallowed the shame as best he could; he was running out of room in his stomach. His guts were full of too many emotions and feelings, he had swallowed so much.

It felt as though, even though Chase had refused to let House kiss him, Chase had somehow managed to force House to swallow him whole. House could not stand this, all this consumption. Chase could not stand this, all this filth on his body.

Both wanted nothing more than to lock themselves in their bathrooms and rid themselves of these things. House wanted to lay his fingers in the back of his throat and force it all back up, Chase wanted to peal his skin off, to scratch and pick at himself until there was nothing left.

Both wanted nothing more than to rid themselves of themselves. To drowned their shame in the pipes hidden under the city, where no one would find them. Both, in their beauty and their pride had managed to break the other. And only now did they realized, there was no way for them to ever be fixed again.


End file.
